There is something deceptive about The Chauffeur. On first listen, REXEN — Michael Rexen — sounds like a textbook introspective acoustic singer-songwriter. That melancholy, low-key reflectiveness is real enough, but it’s only a small part of what’s going on. This is the work of a restless maverick, made with a strong supporting cast (John Parish handles the mix), the variety in his vocal delivery alone is surprisingly unexpected. REXEN swings from a deep, intoxicated baritone croon to a disorienting high register so innocent it sounds like he’s impersonating a child. On You’ve Got It All Wrong his singing tips into a wild, suffering howl, the kind John Lennon let loose on his first solo album; while on M. Romance he’s a smooth lounge crooner in repose. Musically, it is no less inventive: a becalmed electric guitar sets the pace at a coiled-spring kind of tempo, before REXEN bends this faintly sinister Americana into one new shape after another.
Danish-based singer-songwriter REXEN has long occupied an unusual space in the alt-folk landscape, drawing on his roots in the Arabian Gulf and a fascination with both Western and Middle Eastern philosophical traditions. His earlier, self-produced releases hinted at a writer searching for a form that could hold his blend of acoustic indie, jazz inflections, and a uniquely theatrical sensibility sometimes labelled “gothic folk.” The Chauffeur, his first full studio album, marks a clear shift in scale and intention. Recorded at Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios and shaped by a circle of collaborators, it presents REXEN as a more deliberate and focused artist. The songs are slow-burning and analogue-rooted, built around sparse arrangements, sometimes understated production, and a wide emotional register. But keep listening and you soon realise all initial assumptions are wrong. A track like Hoik Up!, which features an additional vocal counterpoint from Mette Lindberg, could easily be passed off as mid-nineties trip-hop from Tricky. The jungle pounding of the bass on Hollywood sounds like a refuge from the art-project later years of Tom Waits career. All positive likenesses, I might add, REXEN appears to be entering a new phase, with growing assurance in who he is and the work he produces. There is plenty of atmosphere and symbolism, for sure, but it is all held together by his magnetic presence.
Healthy contradictions frequently rebound against each other, too; for starters, the voice singing “I’m not afraid anymore” on I’ve Found sounds positively terrified. My Heart possesses great strength in its southern soul and elegantly orchestrated backbone, but again, our front man sounds vulnerable, tentative, and nervous. Furthermore, the person singing the title of I Can See You is so hushed that he sounds like the one doing the hiding. Across the album, REXEN adopts the figure of “the chauffeur” as both narrator and guiding principle: a protector, a witness, and a companion who carries the listener without demanding attention. It is a fitting metaphor for a record preoccupied with care, responsibility, and the blurred line between devotion and self-erasure, although if the delivery adopted for the character is anything to judge by, he is also sinister as hell. Themes of failed love, trust, and emotional endurance recur, but the tone remains reflective rather than confessional; it expresses a belief that vulnerability and strength are intertwined rather than opposed. Silas Tinglef’s patient, craft-driven production reinforces this mood, favouring high-fidelity warmth over immediacy and resisting the disposable pace of contemporary streaming culture. The result is an album designed for deep engagement, one that rewards close listening and lingers long after it ends.
The Chauffeur (April 24th, 2026) Stunt Records
Bandcamp: https://rexen.bandcamp.com/album/the-chauffeur
You can also hear REXEN in our latest Mixtape: